


stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine

by AwaitTheMorrow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Co-workers, Dorks, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13602735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwaitTheMorrow/pseuds/AwaitTheMorrow
Summary: Stiles may not be effortlessly charming, but he can totally do suave and sexy. I mean, he's already got the man of his dreams to come home with him tonight - what could go wrong?orthe one where they sustain mild sex injuries





	stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine

**Author's Note:**

> idk man, i just really like the idea of sterek having fun, imperfect sex. unbeta'd - enjoy!

Stiles laughs breathlessly as he pulls Derek by the hand along the hall to his apartment door, stealing kisses any moment he can. The other man is a hot, heavy line of heat against his back and the hand that isn’t holding Stiles is drifting lower from where it was resting on the small of his back. As Stiles digs around his pocket for his keys tiny kisses are being pressed into his neck, the slow drag of lips and the scrape of stubble against his skin making him tingle all over.

He can’t even believe this is happening right now. One minute he’s pining after his tragically long-standing and utterly hopeless crush, the next they’re making an escape from their work Christmas party hands all over each other. With Derek grinding his hips behind him, Stiles would personally like to thank both Jesus and mistletoe for really doing him a solid this festive season.

“There we go,” he says when the door finally unlocks. He pulls Derek in to the apartment after him and presses him against the door to close it, splaying his hands on either side of the man's head.

Derek's cheeks are flushed and the blue dress shirt under his cardigan is rumpled, the top three buttons undone to give a peak of dark, wiry chest hair. He wastes no time in dragging Stiles in closer by his belt, skilfully coordinating his free hand to palm at Stiles ass. _Unf_ , his hands are so large and incredibly warm. Stiles moves his places his own hands on the man's firm chest, gliding them down slowly as he leans in to press his lips against Dereks'.

Stiles didn’t know what to expect when it came to the older man, didn’t even think he’d ever have a chance with a guy like Derek. Sure he is surly and sarcastic and generally intimidating to all strangers but he wears _sweater vests_ and mentors youth in his free time and is _hot like the sun_. Derek might be all muscle and frowny faces but he is also super soft and quiet and Stiles is helpless against all that, okay? He is but a flawed human being, he will admit it, okay? It’s not Stiles _fault_ intelligent assholes in cardigans are his kryptonite.

Really, the only time Stiles ever expected for his skin to come into contact with Derek's beautifully manicured beard was back in April, when Stiles accidentally smacked him in the face trying to catch a pen someone threw at him. That was not a good day. That being said though, it is a pleasant surprise when Derek's soft side hides and his bossy side comes out, taking charge by firmly gripping Stiles hips and blanketing his body with his own. God, he’s so hot.

“You’re so hot,” Stiles mumbles against Derek's’ lips, minutely rocking their hips together. Derek huffs and presses a searing, open mouthed kiss to the underside of Stiles jaw where it meets his neck. He tilts his head to provide the guy some more room, he’s generous like that, and works on further unbuttoning Derek's cardigan and shirt.

“You are a fucking tease,” Derek groans, slipping a hand in the waistband of Stiles jeans and grazing his bare ass. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted my hands on your ass?”

Stiles snickers breathlessly, moving his thigh in between Derek's legs, lightly rubbing against his bulge as they rock against the door. “Five minutes?”

“No.”

“Ten minutes?”

“Shut up,” Derek says, bringing their lips together again and carding both hands in Stiles hair. He flips them so Stiles is the one cornered against the door and presses the length of their bodies together. He still is having trouble believing his hard dick is against Derek's and the guy is hot for it.

Whilst this is blowing Stiles mind and shortcutting his higher brain function his...door handle is kinda digging into his back? It’s sort of distracting and he puts his hands to Derek’s chest, crowding him into stepping back. He reaches out a hand to tug at the waistband of Derek's jeans playfully, smiling shyly when he gets a view of the man's flushed face and red, shiny lips.

“Bedroom?” Stiles asks, maintaining eye contact whilst undoing the button and zipper of Derek's’ jeans. His breath hitches and he nods quickly, joining Stiles in the effort to undress himself, shrugging off his cardigan so that it slips off his shoulders and onto the floor. Stiles whimpers.  
  
The image of Derek's signature knitted wool falling to Stiles feet whilst the man is standing in his apartment, fly wide open is so painfully sexy. Stiles’ throat is very dry all of a sudden.

Pulling his own shirt off he drops it to the growing pile of clothes and shoes on the floor. He walks Derek backwards, disrobing themselves and shuffling towards his bedroom until they’re in nothing but their underwear. Just as they reach his door Stiles can’t help but to take Derek’s face in his hands and kiss him again, thumbs stroking the man's cheeks. Derek's arms tightly circle his waist as he returns the kiss, slipping his tongue into Stiles mouth, exhaling heavily.

Stiles lets his arms fall loosely around Derek's neck and smiles goofily as they embrace in the hallway. “I kinda really like you,” he confesses, rubbing his clothed dick against Derek's hard, hot length.

“I kinda really like you too,” Derek whispers back, smirking. “Kind of a lot, ever since I saw you bend over the photocopier on my first day.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I also kinda want to suck you off. If you’re into that.”

Stiles brain stutters, fingers twitching at the nape of Derek's neck as his gut coils hot. ”Am I into that? Gee...uh, yeah. _Big_ yeah. You may definitely do that thing.”

Derek nods amicably, grinning. “Cool.”

“Cool. Let’s, um… do that then,” he stammers, reaching over to open the door to his bedroom and resumes pressing quick kisses to Derek's mouth. Limbs still tangled in one another they begin walking backwards into the bedroom, hands roaming and squeezing bare skin. His face is currently preoccupied with Derek’s so he’s not really looking where he’s going, it’s his bedroom, he knows the way. Nonetheless, they make it about halfway into the room before Stiles finds himself abruptly falling forward, body slamming roughly into Derek's as they stumble back over a stack of books and go crashing to the floor.

They go down hard, arms and legs splayed haphazardly, groans slammed out of their lungs. A little dazed and hands stinging from the impact, Stiles raises himself on all fours over Derek who looks a little pained in the glow of the hall light. He blinks rapidly but can’t see any obvious signs of injury.

“Shit, oh my god, are you okay?” Stiles asks, helplessly laughing a little. Of course this is his life - as soon as he gets the guy of his dreams in his bedroom he just about gets him killed with his slovenly ways. There’s junk all over his floor. He can even see a pizza box under his bed from where he is kneeling.

“I think so,” Derek winces, staring at the ceiling as he takes stock of his body. “I think I’m in tact.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think I’d have a guest,” he says sheepishly.

“It’s okay. Knowing you, I’d be shocked if your place _was_ clean,” Derek says innocently, shifting on the floor to get comfortable and slinging his arms around Stiles neck to bring him closer.

“Don’t be rude,” Stiles mutters, lowering himself down to rub their noses together, “my knees are very close to your balls. Don’t risk it.”

Derek just laughs and pulls him the rest of the way, bringing their mouths together in a smiling, breathy kiss. They roll around on the floor a little, intertwining their legs and narrowly avoiding Stiles laundry and other bits and pieces. It takes Stiles being pinned to the floor by the man's weight, a stray game controller digging into his spleen when he suggests they actually move up onto the bed.

Derek helps him up and flicks on the bedside lamps as Stiles closes his bedroom door shut, a habit deeply ingrained to him after years of living with his father and then renting with his best friend Scott. There are some things, some terrible and awful things that could have avoided being shared by a simple closed door.

When he turns back, Derek is sitting on the edge of the bed and is cast in the soft orange glow of the bedside lamps. Stiles heart skips a beat and his fingertips prickle, noticing Derek has abandoned his last layer of clothing, underwear kicked to the side and cock standing proudly in the air. The guy looks so good with his hands resting back on the mattress, his legs spread and smiling shyly under Stiles scrutiny.

“Hey,” Stiles whispers, walking over to Derek and standing in front of him. Derek’s moves his hands to Stiles thighs and slowly drifts them up and down. It tickles a little.

“Hey,” Derek whispers back, bringing his face forward and mouthing wetly kissing Stiles’ happy trail and dragging his underwear down with his thumb. Derek helps him step out of them, peppering kisses from his stomach to his groin, finally taking hold of Stiles dick. He spends a few moments jacking it, experimentally tugging and coyly licking the head with his tongue.

Stiles skin is on fire. The sensation of Derek’s broad, warm hand over his length, the dark strands of his hair have gallantly fallen from their coiff, strays brushing against Stiles hips every time Derek bobs his head. He cards his fingers through the soft locks, gently scratching the back of his head.

“Fuck,” Stiles groans loudly when Derek encases the head of his dick in his warm, wet mouth. “Holy mother of fuckballs, so good.”

With his head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut he can’t see Derek’s expression but he knows it must be smug, probably would be smirking up a storm if his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied going down on Stiles. Probably just about as smug as Stiles feels, really, the memory of his co-workers curious expressions when he and Derek left the party together. There will definitely be some rumours going around on Monday, he can already tell - although he’s finding it an arduous task to care when his Derek moves to mouth at his balls, suckling them lightly whilst strongly gripping his ass.

“Lie back,” Stiles orders hoarsely, thumbing Derek’s ear lobes. As much as he would like to live in this moment for as long as possible he really, really just wants to kiss Derek again and get up close and personal with his everything.

Derek shuffles up the bed until he reaches the pillows, falling back with a soft sigh. He raises one knee and splays it to the side so his cock and balls are on full display, nestled between thick thighs in a wild thatch of pubic hair. Derek is a hairy guy - from his face to chest to his groin to his legs, all dark and furry and mouthwatering. Stiles crawls up onto the mattress after him on his hands and knees, wasting little time in inserting himself between those spread legs and pressing their bodies together.

“Stiles,” Derek gasps when their dicks brush, throwing his head back and exposing his neck. His hands go to grab Stiles ass again, squeezing his cheeks and stroking his crack. Stiles takes the opportunity to place little licks against the long column of his neck like he’s been _dying_ to do for months.

“Mmm…”

“Stiles,” Derek huffs from above him, wriggling a little.

“Ohh yeah….”

“ _Stilinski_ ,” Derek stresses, jabbing his thumb sharply into Stiles armpit. When Stiles looks up Derek has his eyebrows raised.

“You called?”

“Yeah, lets swap - my back’s killing me.”

“Your back?” Stiles frowns, setting back on his knees.

“Yeah I think I hurt it when we fell before.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” Stiles winces, running his hand soothingly over Derek's hairy calf. “I feel sorta bad.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. How about this? Turn over and I’ll rub some Tiger Balm on your back - it burns a little, but it totally works wonders.”

Derek wrinkles his nose. “Is that the really strong, menthol-y smelling stuff?”

“Yeah, dude it reeks, but it’ll feel good I promise. C’mon.”

Stiles is a genius, he is sure of it. Sure full of good, smart ideas, he thinks, as Derek turns over onto his stomach with a pained grunt, giving Stiles a full display of his bare ass. He stares at the curvature for a moment, transfixed, before snapping himself out of it. He traces his fingers over the tattoo on between Derek’s shoulder blades.

“Where does it hurt?” He queries softly, settling himself in a straddle over the backs of Derek's thighs.

Derek crooks his elbow back to gesture towards his lower back where there is indeed some redness. He can’t help feeling a little guilty still so he lowers his upper bod and presses a chaste kiss to the sore area.

“There, all better.”

Derek swings his arm back and bats at his head playfully, rocking his hips a little to unsteady Stiles. He just shakes his head and smiles, reaching over the top drawer of his bedside table to retrieve the small jar of Tiger Balm he keeps there. Uncapping the glass with a clink he sets aside the lid on the bed and dips his fingers into the pungent paste.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a magnificent ass?” Stiles asks, rubbing his hands together to spread the balm evenly. “Do you know how badly I have wanted to eat it?”

“You’re such a dork,” Derek grumbles, hiding his flushed face into Stiles pillow. Stiles grins and begins stroking his hands over Derek's’ lower back, gently massaging the balm into the skin taking care not to press too hard into the tender spot. It’s the least he can do. Besides, Derek’s skin is warm to the touch and beautifully firm, it’s not like it’s a hardship to be on top of him right now.

“That feel okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek sighs, spreading his knees a little, “feels good.”

“Is it starting to tingle yet?”

“Mhmm…”

He spends another few minutes massaging Dreks’ back, arousal clouding his head and making his body buzz. Despite his cock being painfully hard, Stiles could do this all damn day if he was asked to. He never thought when he woke up this morning that he would end the night atop of a very naked Derek Hale and massaging the top of his ass with stinky medicinal paste as foreplay but here he is. Wow. Dreams do come true.

“Alright, turn over,” he says once the balm is adequately rubbed in, sliding off Derek’s body to give him room to move. His thigh lands on something cylindrical and somewhat rigid. Puzzled, he rifles under his covers as Derek turns onto his side, unearthing an empty bottle of Gatorade and a collection of Dorito crumbs. He hastily brushes it off the mattress onto the floor and casually flops onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

“You good?” Derek asks, raising his eyebrows. “Are there other snacks in there, or can we continue?”

“Shut your face,” Stiles retorts, wrapping his free arm around Derek's’ waist and stroking his back. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m already judging you from that one time at work I saw you dig out a half-eaten bagel from your desk bin and then eat it.”

“It was in a bag! I had second thoughts about throwing it away!”

“You’re gross,” Derek smiles, rolling forward and pressing Stiles into the mattress and pecking his lips. Stiles leans up and captures his mouth into a kiss, sliding his tongue inside.

“I’m economical,” he says once they separate, reaching down between their bodies to grip Derek's’ dick in his hand, circling the head with his thumb. Derek pants loudly and raises his hips a little to provide Stiles better access like the helpful person he is. He tugs lightly at Derek’s balls with one hand whilst continuing to stroke the mans cock, twisting and gently tightening his grip. Derek above him, hips twitching and making little _ah-ah_ sounds is the hottest fucking thing Stiles has ever seen. His stomach is all hot liquid pleasure and his toes curl into the sheets and rumpling them further.

“Fuck,” Derek groans, burying his head into Stiles neck and lavishing it with his mouth. The sharp rasp of his beard against the sensitive skin on Stiles neck sends shivers down his spine and helpless moans from his lips. Derek is well and truly on his way to sucking a hickey onto Stiles neck when his hips jerk suddenly and he pulls back a fraction. Stiles frowns.

“You okay?”

“Did you...” Derek begins, taking a moment to catch his breath. He shakes his head and starts again. “You...you still have Tiger Balm on your hands.”

Stiles sits up a bit, the smell of the paste still thick in the air. “Oh yeah, shit,” he says, rubbing at his eyes to shake himself out of the lusty daze he’s under, digging nice and hard at his corneas with his knuckles. _Shit_ , he realizes with a dawning horror, snapping his eyes open.

“Shit,” he croaks, taking in Dereks’ pained expression. _He’d just rubbed raw Tiger Balm all over Derek Hales cock and balls ohhh shit oh shit_.

“Stiles - ”

“ _Shit!_ ” He exclaims, squeezing his eyes shut as they start to burn like a motherfucker. “I just rubbed my eyes!”

He hears Derek groan softly in pain and shuffle around the bed. He urgently points in the direction of his ensuite. “Shower! Quick, shower! Oh my god, I can’t see, my eyes are stinging.”

Derek makes a weird sound like he’s caught between both laughing and grunting at the same time. He hooks an arm under Stiles armpits and around his back, pressing their sides together to guide them into Stiles bathroom.

Derek deposits him somewhere while he gets the water running in Stiles shower. His eyes feel like they’re on fire. God he is so dumb. This is by far the most embarrassing sexual experience he had and that includes the time his dad walked in on him enthusiastically rimming his boyfriend in high school. The ghost of that memory quite frankly pales in comparison to the slight wheezing he can hear from Derek who must currently have a _burning dick_.  

“Are you okay?” Derek says somewhere to his side, gripping Stiles hand and presumably leading him to the shower. Tears are streaming down the side of his eyes which are still squeezed shut and he nods.

“I think my eyes are disintegrating, but other than that I am just peachy. Are _you_ okay?”

“Apart from my dick feeling like I stuck it in a fireplace, never better.”

Stiles can’t help but laugh through the pain and awkward situation. Derek holds his hand and directs him to take the small step up into the shower, shutting the glass door behind them.

It’s a tight fit with both of them in there together but the mostly cold water feels amazing. They simultaneously sigh in relief, huddling under the spray to soothe their affected areas. Derek places a bar of soap in Stiles hands and he quickly lathers them up to the wrist, cleaning his skin thoroughly and under his nails. When his hands are deemed clean enough he places his head under the spray and rubs at his eyes, opening them and shutting them to flush them out with the water.

Once he can keep his eyes open with minimal pain he looks to see how Derek is faring. It’s probably mildly inappropriate how quickly he gets aroused again when he watches him. Heat shoots down his belly when he sees the guy furiously fisting his still hard dick and fondling his own balls with soapy hands, body slick with rivulets of water.

To distract himself Stiles soaps his whole body up for good measure and rinses it off whilst he waits for Derek to finish washing his junk. Derek eventually slows his pace and presses against Stiles to share the water falling from the shower-head to wash away the residual suds.

“Much better,” Derek sighs, turning the water temperature up so they’re not freezing.

“Can I interest you in my sincerest apologies?” Stiles asks, leaning back against the tiles and blinking water from his eyes. Derek turns to him and steps closer to crowd him with his bulk, body heat radiating over Stiles skin. His nose trails Stiles temple and rests his mouth by ear, lips lightly grazing the skin when he speaks.

“I’m listening.”

Stiles sighs. “I am so sorry - again. This is not what I had in mind at all when I thought of doing you and wooing you. I was gonna wow you with, like, sexual prowess but instead I caused you bodily harm. Twice! So yeah. Sorry.”

Derek abruptly takes Stiles cock into his hand, jacking it slowly and whispers into his ear. “You’re lucky I’m kinda really into you.”

“Yeah?” Stiles breath stutters, mouth falling open on a moan. “I haven’t - _ungh_ \- scared you off?” He wraps a leg around Derek's thighs and throws an arm around his broad shoulders for balance. Derek’s grip is firm and incredibly wet as it twists up and down his length, lightly grazing the sensitive head on the upward strokes.

Derek presses a kiss into his temple and shakes his head. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“God, you’re weird,” Stiles gasps, returning the favor and taking Derek’s cock into his now clean, available hand. Under the warm water they jerk each other off, Derek turning his head back so that they can share open-mouthed kisses and hitched breath. Between the moans wet sounds echoing off the walls and their combined movements it doesn’t take long for either of them to get off, Stiles coming first and spilling over Derek's’ hand. Derek follows not long after with a strangled cry, forehead falling to Stiles collarbones. Stiles continues to work him with his hand through his shudders until he is too sensitive and says so.

The warm water begins to run out as they begin to come down, Stiles still pressed against the cool tiles pinned by Derek's weight. Once they’ve caught their breath they tangle their fingers and nudge their noses together, kissing sweetly.

“That was…” Derek begins.

“Yeah.”

“S’nice.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees dumbly.

“You got plans tomorrow?”

“No, why?”

“Thought I’d take you out for breakfast. Y’know - I mean - if you want me to stay over.”

Stiles kisses him again to hide his smile. “Hell yes, nerd.”

“Ooh yeah, talk dirty to me,” Derek deadpans, stepping back and giving him a look. Stiles just rolls his eyes and shuts off the water, nudging the man back so they can step out of the shower.

It’s as he steps into the cold bathroom with his clothes out in the living room that he realizes that he has absolutely no clean towels for then to dry off with. They’re gonna have to air dry. God, he was so unprepared. Now Derek will forever  messy he is and how much he emphatically does not have his shit together. But he thinks, looking backwards and appraising Derek’s fond eyes and flushed cheeks that maybe he’s got nothing to worry about. Derek doesn’t seem to mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> [le tumble](http://bloodgutsandstarbucks.tumblr.com)


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